Caught
whileing away another day,
along with so many days before.
Wasted, woeful dismay,
me and the days before
gone in a mirage
of things I did and things I didn’t.
Reflections of azure,
beautiful but emptied
hazy horizons in the distance,
distinct up close but forever gone.
irretrievable chances,
washed by the wind along
into defeated time.
into surrendering youth.
Dreams fulfillment lost.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
Coming down like a forty day flood,
depression’s bile is in my blood.
Hammering on my soul like thunder.
Ripping through my mind like lightning
with no sign of clear skies.
Fighting the feeling is useless,
for the storm moves on relentless.
I’m a drowning man going under.
I’m a shipwrecked soul surviving
with no glimpse of the golden shore.
But before I sink into the sea of sorrow,
I see the sun seeking my soul.
It’s distant warmth melts the horror
and depression begins to go.
The skies are clear as my soul ascends,
and my sanguine self is whole again.
Pounding through me like perfect pleasure.
Rising over fresh fields on new wings
with no portent of impending time.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
Breath deep.
Wait for inner peace.
Untie the knots.
Forget about it.
It’s just a small part of your small life.
It may seem like an eternity to overcome,
but it’s just a blink of the eye.
Be calm.
Wait for the chaos to pass.
Relieve the pain.
It’ll be gone soon enough.
It’s just a short time in your short life.
It may seem like the pain will never end,
but then it’s gone with a sigh.
It’s hard.
Emotions are topsy turvy.
Stay on an even keel.
It’ll pass like all change.
It’s just a single episode in a vast panorama.
It may seem like the end of your world,
but it’s just a change in the way things seem to be.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
Sometimes I can just put it out of my mind.
It drops away like the final leaf on a naked tree
leaving me ready to stand against the winter.
A brief coldness that passes like a sharp wind,
and I realize it’s better to bloom than worry
since within I know I love her.
Regardless of what I think has happened,
it’s better to make a fool of myself in private
than to boyishly act unsure.
Because I know where my suspicions begin.
They are born in the marrow of my psyche
where I cannot hide from what I know I would do.
So my emotions hide in the ground,
waiting for the winter wind to pass by
and giving me time to face what I fear.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
rising out of the sky
through puffs of cotton clouds
are the aspirations of a soaring soul.
undaunted by the pull of earth
into the weightlessness of silent space
where physical constraints no longer take their toll
on a life released.
once burning in a bitter fire
with vision blurred by smoke and flame
is the sightless depression of a sunken soul.
set free now by a fearsome flood
as it washes away hazy perceptions
and no longer lets the elements take their toll
on a life released.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
what’s going to happen to me?
today.
tomorrow.
in all my possible futures.
what has already happened to me?
yesterday.
the day before.
in all my muddled past.
is it a loose association
or a concrete path?
is my future predestined
or determined by my past?
what’s happening to me now?
a creation of the future.
a re-creation of the past
in an endless cycle of death.
or is each day a bright new child
to be nurtured for its possibilities?
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
God is there,
living and breathing with your every breath.
in the mind of man He dwells.
in the vastness of the universe His seat of power.
in the complexity of nature a delicate touch of His hand.
God is here,
waiting for you with undiminished hope.
with longing for communion with your mind.
with mercy offering you the vastness of His power.
with joy presenting the intricate work of His hand.
God is everywhere,
accepting those that seek him.
you must go to Him with an open mind.
you must let His power wash over your soul.
you must see in everything the elaborate work of His hand.
for without his sublime light there is only darkness.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
Upon the path are many wonders.
Some I feared.
Some I treasure still.
But most I have forgotten.
Only half way through the journey though
did I find what mattered most.
It joined me early in my walk.
Stayed with me patiently
until I understood it’s meaning.
Never leaving when I wandered off
upon a broader path.
It is still there, forever there.
And I have not forgotten.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
I was his favorite.
I don’t know why
(well maybe I do),
but I knew.
So, I could not disappoint him.
So, I hid my self from him.
And still I was revealed.
But from God I cannot hide
my weaknesses,
my inadequacies,
my self.
So, I disappoint Him.
So, I hide from Him.
And still He reveals Himself to me.
Grace for what I can not do.
Mercy for what I’ve already done.
Salvation revealed on crossed timbers,
as if I were a favorite son.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
sweet swells of music in the dead of night.
rhythmic waves wafting through the timeless twilight.
or in the searing heat of summer,
a boogaloo beat that just won’t quit.
the pounding surf of your soul,
glimpsing the mysterious music of the whole.
a daring dance in focuses of light,
in distinction then disappearing out of sight.
or in a golden burst you can’t quite remember,
a revelation you can’t make fit.
through the wake of your soul,
a glimpse of the mysterious whole.
but you can find harmony without a fight.
you can make the canvas of consciousness bright.
or you can blindly be the loser,
misplacing the prize offered as a gift.
the completeness of the soul,
in the oneness of the whole.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing